Take Care
by Mishi Tamashi
Summary: Bryson is a hot-tempered young man who's hard outer shell pushes people away. But not Feliks. The stubborn Pole is determined to bring Bryson back to his former self.  Gah, just some Gakuen PolMol. It rhymes!


**[A/N: Just quick information with is a Poland/Molossia fic because...well because why not?**

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><p><strong>Take Care <strong>

Bryson's brown eyes settled on the half empty carton of cigarettes, he wasn't addicted, no, it just helped to ease his nerves whenever depressing thoughts would wander through his head.

"To hell with it." He figured verbally then snatched up the box and stood to head outside and lean against the post of his patio. The lighter was cold in his hand and the revolving sparkers edge bit into his thumb as his made his flame lighting the white cylinder and taking a long drag. Lowering his comfort between two fingers eyes peeked over the rim of his darkened sunglasses he blew the smoke up into the sky letting it dissipate with his train of thought. He could remember his humiliation like it was yesterday, in school he was the quiet reserved kid. Or he used to be until he got his heartbroken.

New to school on his freshman year after being homeschooled for his previous academic career he wasn't exactly sure how to interact with his peers. He was quiet and shy mostly sticking to the back of the classroom but then a kid just had to talk to him. They happened to share the same last name, but then again Jones is a pretty common name. All the same, Alfred had become Bryson's best and only friend. As the year went on they got closer and closer then Bryson was sure he was experiencing love and confessed…probably one of the greatest mistakes he could've ever made. Alfred was more interested in the sophomore, Arthur Kirkland. Bryson figured something was up when he'd get blown off several times for the uppity Brit. After that he wouldn't let himself get hurt again so he changed his appearance completely. Dark sunglasses that hid whatever emotion he had in his eyes and a defensive personality to hurt people before he was hurt himself. It was the best way to ride out his high school career. Alone and without heartache. It was now his junior year and he already had senioritis.

Looking back at the rising sun he figured it was a good time to head for school, he walked back inside and bid goodbye to his dog, ChomChom before grabbing his school bag and walking from his aunt and uncle's house. His parents are too busy "making a brighter future" for him so he'd be home alone while they were away on business trips, which is why he attends school now. God what he'd give to have that silence at home back, with a grimace he looked up at the road ahead. He was a little lonely by himself but now he'd happily take that all back.

"Ciao!" A loud voice greeted making him jump visibly, eyebrows furrowed into a glare as he turned to the bouncing Italian young man that happened to be one of the friends he'd acquired since changing his persona.

"Shit Romeo, don't do that to me!" He chastised in a harsh tone, the Italian only blinked and tilted his head obviously confused.

"Do what? All I did was say hi to you."

Bryson groaned. "What-thefuck-ever."

Regaining his smile Romeo prattled about his morning then stopped midsentence to lean into the angry brunette. Having his personal space invading Bryson flushed slightly and pushed him away.

"What're ya doin'!"

Romeo frowned. "You smell like cigarettes…I thought you'd stop smoking before school."

"I never promised that. I said I might."

"I still don't like it…"

"Ya don't have to like it. I do." Bryson huffed hissing the lie and increasing his pace. He hated cigarettes in all actuality but he hated being told what to do even more. It was a habit he'd picked up in spite.

"Wait! Are you at least ready for today's Sociology quiz? I need to study really bad but Romano won't share his notes and Feliciano's notes are…well…not that good. Could I borrow yours?"

"Yeah, yeah. What-thefuck-ever." With a grunt he dug around in his bag and pulled out a notebook. "Lose my notes and I'll fuckin' kill ya."

"Grazie, grazie! Oh! There's Marissa, I'll talk to you later Bryson!" With that he scurried off the harass the Monacan girl, Bryson could only roll his eyes and wonder what else today had in store for him.

In the halls he walked past several faces and ignored them to get to his locker, after fiddling with the lock he swung open the door to retrieve his books for the day.

"Hi!" A cheerfilled voice rounded off from behind him, Bryson turned and faced a short blonde girl.

"What d'ya want brat?" He grumbled, she huffed.

"Brat? I'll have you know I'm a senior. Punk." Suddenly she smiled and held out a box.

"I'm with the drama department and selling chocolates. We have milk chocolate, dark chocolate…" She trailed off and raised an eyebrow at him, "Although you seem like a bitter kind of person, so we have that."

He snorted. What a bitch. "I don't want any."

"Yes you do, you're just too stubborn to say. So instead, Mr. Cigarette Smoke, I'll give you a free sample. On me, because I'm just that generous but if you come back begging for more it's not my problem." With that she shoved a bar in his hand and walked off to harass other people, the bucket she had was pretty full with money. Bryson directed his attention back to the candy bar. He snorted, shoved it in his pocket and headed for class.

oOoOo

By the time lunch came around Bryson could say he was thoroughly exhausted, two tests and it was the time of year when everyone got their physical strong points and weak points exploited by the government to see how many would be able to outrun a zombie apocalypse. He grabbed a tray and sat down by himself and scooted the questionable school meal around with his plastic fork. He mulled over the rest of the day before being joined by two males.

"Grazie for the notes Bryson." Romeo cheerfully thanked and handed him back his notebook, grumbling he took it. Leonard sat next to him and smiled cockily.

"What's the matter, surely there is something I can do for you." Bryson scowled at the cocky Australian bitch. He was pretty ok, until he started getting a swelled head.

"Shut the fuck up Leo."

"So hostile, it's no wonder you don't have a girlfriend." Bryson simply cut him a glare before standing and walking away from the table only to hear Romeo chastising his friend. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stomped off to the roof. He should've just come here instead of trying to suffer through his "friends" and their snide comments. Once on the breezy rooftop he walked around to be sure he was truly by himself then he pulled his hands out of his pockets and brought the forgotten chocolate bar up with them. The concrete was cold and dry but it still gave a slightly wet feeling through his pants as he sat. It wasn't unpleasant. Very comfortable to say the least. Nimble fingers took off the sunglasses that hid his eyes from the world and looked out at the sky. It was the kind of grey that held peace rather than sorrow. Or at least to him it looked at way as he bit into the candy. It was rich and firm and sweet. It tasted homemade and just for a moment he closed his eyes and thought about buying another one after school.

oOoOo

As you can imagine when the dismissal bell rang Bryson made a beeline for the exit until a loud and shrill voice invaded his ears.

"Speech and Drama candy sale! Homemade chocolates, sweet as can be, you know you have a dollar, so give it to me!" The girl from earlier sing-songed, he watched her as she approached a boy and a girl walking. "Hey your girlfriend's really cute!" She complimented.

The boy grew nervous. "Sh-she's not my girlfriend!"

She winked. "Buy her some chocolate and change that. Look at her, she'd love some chocolate. I mean, long day right? That physical today, you need something sweet."

The girl sighed. "It'll just go to my thighs."

She laughed and dangled the chocolate. "But you know it's worth it. Besides, what's a little extra?"

The girl grabbed the tempting confection and walked away, the saleswoman looked at the boy. "One dollar please!"

He grumbled and handed over the money, looking pleased with herself she took the dollar and thanked him. Bryson snorted and watched her pull out a cellphone with a questioned look on her face, before it widened into shock.

"Hey Toris, I gotta jet! Please, please, please lock up my money ok?" She pleaded tossing what she was carrying at another member before streaking down the hall, her skirt fluttering behind her.

He figured he could just go, to be nosy or to amuse himself if anything. He followed her to the drama room and waited a bit before walking in. There she stood shirt less and putting back on her uniform pants because- OH MY GOD IT'S A BOY! He must have been gawking because the blonde snorted.

"Want a picture? I could totally make a cute face too."

"I..I though-"

"That I was a girl, yes I know. I've been blessed with a face between sexes."

Bryson fumed, suddenly angry. "Why'd ya dress like a girl!"

He simply shrugged. "I sell better that way." Suddenly he grinned widely. "Why did you follow me to confess to me?"

He could only feel his face go red. "No!"

The blonde approached the taller brunette, looking up sweetly and pouting. Pink lips quivered a bit as the blonde caught the light of the room in big green eyes. "Are you sure? I'm sweet as can be." Then the eyes were half-lidded as a devious smirk grew and he pushed the taller frame against the door with surprising strength. "Then again I've been known to be a bitch."

When Bryson didn't respond the blonde laughed and stepped away. "I'm just kidding, my name's Feliks."

"Bryson."

He blinked. "Bryson? That's a cool name, you totally don't hear it a lot! Oh!" He flipped his wrist over and looked at the face of his watch. "I have to jet." He grabbed his hand and uncapped a pen with his teeth before writing on it.

"What the fuck're ya doin'!" The brunette yelled, pulling back.

He huffed and finished writing. "My number. Text me later or I'll whomp you."

He snorted and looked down at him. "Ya won't do shit."

The Pole grinned and stood flush with him. "I mean it. Now call me later or you'll get an earful of colorful words and a face full of fist." He sing-songed before walking out of the room.

The look in his eyes told Bryson that he'd really do it, with a mix of annoyance and nervousness he looked at the numbers scribbled on his hand and sighed.

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><p>August 26<p>

So today some guy named Feliks basically forced himself into my life. I just got off the phone with him and he was less annoying that way. Maybe he'll be my friend like Romeo and Leonardo… if you call him my friend. I know he means well and I'm hard to deal with but he doesn't have to be so harsh. That girlfriend comment was really out of line, it's not like I don't know I'm an asshole but it's by choice. I'm protecting myself and I don't see anything wrong with that. Besides, nobody wanted to be my friend when I was the quiet kid but now that I'm a badass everyone wants to talk to me. So they can love the fake me all they want.

I hate him.

-Bryson Edward Jones.


End file.
